


War

by buftie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-29
Updated: 2010-08-29
Packaged: 2017-11-15 00:36:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/521187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buftie/pseuds/buftie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver attempts to console Percy about his brother's death after the Battle at Hogwarts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	War

**Author's Note:**

> Scottish phonetics/slang used to the best of my ability. Personal fanon also utilized.

The aftermath is the wirst. Thair's so many a them. Deid. Bleeding. Wiounded. Ah consider missel yin lucky cunt. Bairly a scratch oan me physically. Emotionally, mentally. . . I reckon wea've all been damaged tae fuck. Ahm shocked with missel when ah see mah brar in the wreckage. Ahm feelin befuddle. I hated the bastard, but ah didnae want him tae be deid. We had a complex relationship, he an ah. He made bad choices, likesay. He wis fightin fir the Dark side an he was killed cause a it. Right shame in a sense, bit Azkaban probably woulda been wirse.

Ah help by movin boadies sos families can find their oan. The perr Weasley's. Ah see the ma greetin somethin awful. Ah cannae imagine how it'd be tae lose yir bairns. Mah heart wrenches. Fred was a great guy an a damn good beater as well. He dinnae deserve tae die, so many dinnae. Mah eyes are raw n puffy fir the Weasley's, fir massel, fir every yin. Ah spot Percy Weasley sittin oaf by hissel, likes. We wis in the saim year though we nivir really goat oan well with each other. He alwis seemed tae have good intentions with what he wis daein, no matter how he went aboot it. I gae oaver tae him. He looks like shite and ah'll bet ah dinnae look tae much bettar.

"Alright thar, Percy," I sais tae him. He barely registars that ahm thair. The oanly indication is his eyes move. Ah sit next tae him an we're thair a good five minutes, sittin in our oan silence. "Ah'm so sorry aboot yir brar," ah sais quietly. The perr fella tenses up noticeably and a fresh wave a tears come tae his eyes. Seein his pain makes me feel a right cunt aboot me oan. No one ivir kent aboot me brar. It seems jist as good a time as any tae talk aboot him.

"No many fellas ken, but Flint and ah wis brars, step brars that is," ah sais tae the Weasley. Ah've nivir ben particularly nice tae the felly, but war changes ye. Brings folks tigether jist as much as it tears em apairt. Ah dinnae why ahm tellin him a aw people. Now ah get a reaction. He looks tae me, confused an a wee bit surprised.

"Marcus Flint?" his voice is aw watery an cracked.

"Aye. Ma Ma an his da. We nivir telt nobody fir obvious reasons," ah smile wanly. "Ah dinnae grow oan him nor he me, bit we had our oan kind of thing, ya ken? We goat used tae it aftir a while an fer Quidditch, upped the ante ya could say. He wis a stupid cunt, bit ah may end up missin the bastard, ken?" Ah hate tae notice that ahm cryin and Percy's goat his airm roond me. He sais nowt and ah shut up missel. We sit thair and jist let the damage sink intae us.


End file.
